


The Captain and the Gentleman

by sybilius



Series: The Seabirds [1]
Category: The Sea-Wolf - Jack London
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Poetry, Romancing the sea, Romantic Realizations, Wolf Larsen POV, novel canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28040799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilius/pseuds/sybilius
Summary: On the third day that Wolf Larsen and Humphrey van Weyden pass speaking of literature, Hump brings a poem.
Relationships: Wolf Larsen/Humphrey van Weyden
Series: The Seabirds [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196096
Comments: 11
Kudos: 7
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	The Captain and the Gentleman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elektra121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektra121/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide! 
> 
> I hope this brightens your day :) I had a lot of fun working with these two. Nice to write something sweet. 
> 
> Shoutout to my beta, who also suggested looking at Shakespeare's work when I asked after poetry that would have been well-known in their era. Sometimes the classic choice is the best choice!

The first day was meant to be the end of it. 

Humphrey van Weyden, self described  _ gentleman _ should be the last person that Wolf Larsen wanted to invite to his personal quarters. And yet -- the passion in his voice when he spoke matter of ethics was captivating, the temptation to, at last, speak to a man who has not simply attempted but has truly  _ read _ those books he so struggles with. 

Wolf Larsen supposes it was the eagerness, against all odds, to open himself up and provide his thoughts. For certain, there is fear in Hump’s eyes, of the violence the life of the sea promises. But yet his eagerness to teach, to open up and share his complex and enlightened world with his torturer most lowly is ...altogether inexplicable. And there is so much to learn and hear. 

And this is how it’s continued on to the third day, with Hump turning up at the door, sleep-rumpled and work shirt slightly askew. He clears his throat, eyes wide and shining. His eyes flit nervously to the ramshackle shelves on the wall, and back. 

“I..if I may suggest some readings, today?” he murmurs tentatively. Wolf Larsen feels a frown pull down at his lips, and yet -- there is certainly something inviting, something that presses him to nod and let his strange cabin-boy in to perform for the third day. 

“Have you been -- looking at the shelf, something you think we ought to pick up?”

“It’s rather -- it’s something I know off my -- by heart, you see,” Hump paces along the length of the cabin, a nervous energy radiating from him that Wolf Larsen can’t quite place. Had something changed? With an air of indifference Wolf Larsen reaches for a cigar of his own, lighting it and gesturing to Hump to begin. The would-be  _ gentleman _ seems to take that in far too familiar a manner, sitting down on Wolf Larsen’s own bed. Before he can protest, however, Hump begins to speak:

_ A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted  
_ _ Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion; _

At this, Hump looks up with a gaze of such intensity, Wolf Larsen once again misses his opportunity to berate him for the impertinence of sitting on his Captain’s bed. And then the man continues: 

_ A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted  
_ _ With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion;  
_ _ An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,  
_ _ Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;  
_ _ A man in hue, all “hues” in his controlling,  
_ _ Which steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amazeth. _

Wolf Larsen blinks, vaguely aghast. Was this meant to be a poem about a particular man? Controlling, perhaps as he was, as a captain ought to be. Hump’s plush lips part eagerly, his pale neck leaning forward to go on:

_ And for a woman wert thou first created;  
_ _ Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,  
_ _ And by addition me of thee defeated,  
_ _ By adding one thing to my purpose nothing. _

The words are honeyed, that much he can understand -- is it about a woman? Wolf Larsen’s brow furrows, his lips tightening around the cigarette. The room feels warm somehow, Hump’s steady gaze still on him as he completes the poem: 

_ But since she prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure,  
_ _ Mine be thy love and thy love’s use their treasure. _

Women’s pleasure -- Wolf Larsen’s lip curls. He can’t say he’s ever found much use for that. 

“Get off my bed, Hump,” he gestures with the cigar, feeling the oddest flush creeping up on his neck.

Hump gets up slower than he should, for that rebuke, “Ah, um. My apologies, Captain. Would not mean to invite other uses for...beds.”

“Do you not find your quarters satisfactory?” the cruel question comes to his lips without thinking, as if he’s any other crew member. Hump flinches as if he might have slapped him. 

“No sir. No.”

“Well, then?”

“All right I’ll --”

“The poem. About the dissatisfaction with women’s love? Perhaps you and I are made of similar stuff, Hump. Can’t say I’ve ever had much of a reason to go to port for a woman. Indeed, if Nature, as your poem says, built them for none of the hard work of the sea. Therefore, what use have I for such company."

“The poem it -- it disparages the fairer sex if only by comparison, I would say. To the subject ."   


“Comparison to what?”

“To the pleasures of...men.”

“You surprise me, Hump! All this talk of the nobility of man, of a greater cause, I was not expecting conversations of pleasure. Of women,” Wolf Larsen paces back and forth, “Shall I take out the drink then, for greater vices? Would you say men’s gambling is a greater pleasure.”

“You twist my words,” Hump blushes furiously.

“You brought words of your own to our little discussion today, you ought to be prepared to defend them.”

“Defend--” Hump’s voice cuts off with a strangled anger, his hands balling into fists.

“And what kind of man  _ are _ you, Wolf Larsen, hmm? Swaggering about, acting at once above the morality of your sea-mates, yet spitting on them for not understanding it? What good is you  _ knowing _ the word  _ ethics,  _ if you don’t make use of it?”

“Is that to make me  _ lesser _ ?” Wolf Larsen asks, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Yes. And a coward with it-- aaagh!” Hump’s face twists as Wolf Larsen grips him to bruising, breaking his tirade. From this closeness he can breathe in Hump’s scent, somehow still genteel and salt-tinted from his work aboard. His pulse quickens. He releases his gentleman-crewman’s arm a moment too late. 

Wolf Larsen rarely  _ relished _ in the pain he saw as necessary for asserting himself, but nor did he feel anything in particular about it either. This time, seeing the anguish in Hump’s eyes makes a flicker of regret ripple through him, an errant raindrop in an endless sea.

It’s very little. But it’s enough to make him demonstrate the pain could have been worse. 

* * *

It isn't until weeks later that he begins to understand what Hump truly intended, that fateful morning. 

Hump has just passed another of the sea's tests, showing his mettle against Thomas Mugridge and walking away the clear victor. The knife on his hips catches Wolf Larsen's eye as he walks by, some begrudging admiration kindling in him. His eyes linger on the man's shapely buttocks as he walks, and then he snaps his attention back to the crew. As he passes Johnson and Leach without their notice, he catches a derisive whisper, some rude motions as they watch Hump move down the steps to the galley. 

“Well, even if he is walking to be buggered, won’t be ol’ Cooky doing it,” Leach murmurs. Wolf Larsen’s thoughts turn first to rage, then confusion as the idle gossip floats up to him. 

“No, we know who that will be--”

“Three days? Already done. Say, where -- ?” the both of them look about conspiratorially, and Wolf Larsen takes a few steps back on the poop, for once not wanting to appear the omniscient captain. 

He’s not at all sure how it shows on his face. 

This was a deeply unsettling development on multiple levels. It’s hardly surprising that the crew wouldn’t jump to the intellectual conclusion about his and Hump’s exchanges. Wolf Larsen himself had even experienced briefly the kind of rough man-handling from captains and mates they describe. As for the kind of captain he was, well, there was simply no appeal in that for him. To tussle with a crew member for actions meant to be of pleasure -- seemed too much like mixing business, pain, work, with something entirely divorced from it. 

He frowns, sniffing the rough salt of the air. Hump might call that ethics.

Humphrey van Weyden. Kneeling wide eyed on the bed, lips parted, reading him poetry about forsaking the touch of women. Fear in his eyes and yet -- the pleasures of  _ men _ , he said. 

A shock of realization goes through his body. Was Hump -- implying that the baseless sin between seamen could be as the forbidden fruit? That he would seek it out? That he would seek it out from none other than Wolf Larsen himself? A dizzying wave of sensation goes through Wolf Larsen’s muscles, his bones, his groin, as he envisions all too-suddenly the consummation of Hump’s suggestion. 

Wolf Larsen has very few desires -- to run the ship well, to be feared, to feel the pulse of life under his thumb. And he takes pride in his ability to follow through on each of them, encompassing and dominating as the sea itself. 

The sensation in his chest shifts and rocks, almost with the tides. 

He counts this among his desires. And by god or the sea, he shall  _ have it _ .

He takes the steps down from the poop two at a time, searching with wide eyes, and then turning to the galley 

“Mr. van Weyden!” he calls crisply, and then belatedly remembers the nickname. Which would  _ be _ more appropriate at this conjecture? 

“Hump?” he calls into the galley.

“Captain?”

“I have need of you. Cabin.”

The flash of fear on his cabin-boy's face should have occurred to him. He adds abruptly, "Er, in matters of literature."

"Oh. Of course." 

Is he imagining the coldness in Hump's voice, or is that simply the whip of salt-tinged air on his bare cheeks? They cross the decks with nigh a word, only the wash of the waves beside them. 

His heart pounds in his throat. Would it do to be direct? His own captain those years before simply instructed him to remove his clothes, a cold, brutal affair. But that had no part in his desire, it was simply an exchange he agreed to. Something to pass the time. Stealing a glance to Hump, he can’t help but feel like this will be another matter entirely. 

All too soon they arrive at the cabin. Wolf Larsen carefully latches the door behind him. It would not do to be interrupted. He turns to Hump, searching for how to begin. 

“That -- poem you read me?”

Hump flushes, and it’s difficult to tell if it’s anger or not, “I did not think it pleased you.”

“I… didn’t understand it,” he blinks, arrested by Hump’s wide and wanting eyes. Then words unthinkable come to his lips.

“Forgive me?”

Hump gives a soft gasp, leaning forward so tentatively. He moves his hand to Wolf Larsen’s cheek, “If -- perhaps, I could--?”

He leans in, brushing his thumb along the hard bone of Wolf Larsen’s cheek, pressing his soft lips to his captain’s with such unbearable tenderness. Wolf Larsen opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, gathering his strange crewman close, closer than he’s been to another body for many years. When they break apart, 

“You kiss like a gentleman,” he manages, though breathless. 

“And you, like the sea itself.”

There are no words spoken for a time after that -- at least, none so eloquent. Later, Wolf Larsen thinks that could be a poetry unto its own. 

**Author's Note:**

> The poem Hump recites is Shakespeare's Sonnet 20, one of the more popular of the Fair Youth Sequence.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Comments always welcome ^_^


End file.
